


Ready to Lose

by blinking_post



Category: Big Bang (Band)
Genre: Angst, Cheating, Companion Piece, Established NyongTory/Gri, Getting Together, M/M, Romance, Topri/Toptory Endgame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-21
Updated: 2016-02-21
Packaged: 2018-05-22 10:31:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6075927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blinking_post/pseuds/blinking_post
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“Hyung, admit it, you’ve always loved me,” he says, staring up at Seunghyun with devilishly mischievous eyes after they’ve exchanged barbs, Seungri endearingly loud and obnoxious and Seunghyun pretending to be exasperated by his antics.  It’s a joke.  It’s so clearly a joke Seunghyun doesn’t know why he freezes up like a deer caught in headlights.</i>
</p><p><b>Companion Fic</b> to <i><a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/5873386">Ride With Me</a></i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Ready to Lose

**Author's Note:**

> So, companion fic to [Ride With Me](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5873386) from TOP's POV that exactly one person asked for. Maybe it's not as good as Ride With Me but I think I love this story just a bit more ~~because Top is my bias.~~

\----

 

Seunghyun knows he’s not a good person.  But he tries.  He really, really tries.

 

It’s magnetic, the way Seungri pulls at him, drawing him in closer and closer until he’s trapped in Seungri’s orbit -- too close to escape but too far to touch -- so that all Seunghyun does is go around and around and around in circles until he’s dizzy, until his whole universe is nothing more than a single point in space.

 

Seungri.

 

He can’t help it.

 

“Hyung, admit it, you’ve always loved me,” he says, staring up at Seunghyun with devilishly mischievous eyes after they’ve exchanged barbs, Seungri endearingly loud and obnoxious and Seunghyun pretending to be exasperated by his antics.  It’s a joke.  It’s so clearly a joke Seunghyun doesn’t know why he freezes up like a deer caught in headlights.

 

The grin falls off of Seungri’s face when he gets it.  He stares up at Seunghyun with wide, disbelieving eyes.  “Oh,” he says, the only word he could muster up and then absolute silence.  Seunghyun is also at a loss, unsure of what to say next.  It’s never been this awkward between the two of them before, not even when he was twenty and Seungri only seventeen and their three year age difference made everything uncomfortable.

 

He blames the alcohol, blames that extra bottle of red wine he shouldn’t have opened after all, even if Seungri had kept insisting.  He watches Seungri slump back into the sofa, shock still on his face.

 

“Huh,” he says, expressionless, emotionless.  More to fill the space than anything meant for Seunghyun.

 

“Yeah.”  What else can he say?  It’s out there.  Sort of.  In a way.  Seungri knows now.  He can’t take it back.

 

They sit there for who knows how long, Seunghyun waiting for the needle to drop, for Seungri to jump up and run away at any moment, a half-thought out excuse tossed behind him as he escapes through the door.  This is why he didn’t want anyone to know, least of all Seungri.  It was okay.  HE was okay.  Maybe it wasn’t happiness but Seungri had Jiyong and Seunghyun saw how good the two of them were together, even after all these years.  He would never do anything to jeopardize that.  He cares about them and he’d been content enough to just be in Seungri’s orbit.

 

The thing is he doesn’t expect anything from Seungri.

 

He has never expected anything.

 

He knows where he stands.

 

Seunghyun had been caught off guard though and had all but confessed without saying a word.  Things are going to be awkward now, once Seungri processes everything.  He’s going to pull away, put some distance between the two of them and Seunghyun can’t say he blames him.  Seungri won’t seek him out anymore when he’s alone or lonely or bored and that’s what probably will hurt the most.  The loss of friendship.

 

But Seungri is Seungri and he has never followed the crowd.  He forges his own way and curse anyone who tries to stop him.  Seunghyun hears him shuffle, expects him to leave but sees out of the corner of his eyes Seungri stretching out, arms reaching for the sky, back curling, before he settles back into the couch.  Then he turns to Seunghyun with a bright smile and says, “Hyung, let’s watch a movie.”

 

Seungri.  He walks to the beat of his own drum.

 

This is where he should say no.  He knows better.  This is where he should pull away or push Seungri away.  It feels wrong now.  Somehow.  He’s not exactly sure what or how but something has shifted.

 

This is what makes him a bad person.  He knows the right thing to do but he can’t say no, can’t stay away either.  When Seungri asks him for something, anything, he gives in and so he says, “Okay,” and watches as Seungri sits in front of his dvd collection, contemplative as he goes through them one by one before pulling something out.

 

It’s awkward for him while they watch the movie but Seungri seems completely at ease.  He doesn’t understand how Seungri can be so calm about this, like nothing had happened.  Maybe for him it  _is_ nothing.  He’s already in a steady relationship and a confession here and there isn’t going to change that.

 

Oh.

 

Seunghyun sees now.

 

Seungri is going to pretend he doesn’t know.

 

That’s probably for the best.  What’s the alternative?  Lose Seungri’s friendship?

 

Halfway through the film Seungri starts dozing off, head falling back as his eyes slowly start closing before he jerks forward again, wired and alert.

 

“You should go home,” he mumbles out.

 

“No,” Seungri says even as he yawns, rubbing at his eyes.  “I want to stay.”  And then he dozes off again.  Seunghyun sighs, turns off the movie and pulls out a blanket from one of the closets.  He wraps it around Seungri, looks on as Seungri burrows himself into the couch and feels a smile tug at the corners of his mouth.  He runs a hand through Seungri’s hair lightly, afraid to disturb him but wanting to touch, wanting to push his hair away and see peace take over his face as he sleeps before he treads to his own bed to let sleep claim him as well.

 

This is becoming a problem, this whole not being able to deny Seungri anything.  How many nights now?  How many nights have Seungri stayed over, asleep on his couch or in one of his spare beds?  Seunghyun has lost count.

 

It started because Seungri had felt lonely, because Jiyong was busy with work, another bout of inspiration having struck after a dry spell that lasted too long, sending him to the studio as he spends all his time with Teddy-hyung and Youngbae.  When Seungri attacks it’s with the ease of a skilled predator.  He stalks at first, circling his prey, lulling them into a false sense of security before he pounces so that at first it’s only, “Hyung, let’s go out for drinks” or “Hyung, let’s have dinner” once a week or so until it wasn’t anymore, until it was twice a week and then all of a sudden it’s every other day they were seeing each other.  Breakfast or dinners, sometimes both, sometimes they spend the whole day together watching movies or tv dramas.  Sometimes Seungri, filled with grand delusions, tries to teach him Japanese in the hopes that he’ll get better.  Seunghyun humors him but most things don’t stick.  When something does though, Seungri lights up, proud, and for that single moment that follows it makes Seunghyun want to try harder.

 

Sometimes Seunghyun takes him to museums.  Sometimes they sit in front of the same painting for hours, legs bent, knees touching and it’s so insignificant to Seungri that he doesn’t bother moving away but for hours, for  _hours_ as they sit there, Seungri uncharacteristically still as a rock, that’s all Seunghyun can concentrate on.  When it becomes too much he tells Seungri they can go do something else, that Seungri must be bored but he only shakes his head and says to him, “Hyung, I think I get art now,” with a smile that peeks out through his eyes.

 

It’s breathtaking.  It’s heartbreaking.  And stupid.  He’s being stupid.  Has been for years now.

 

 _Years_.

 

How many?

 

More than he would care to admit.  The truth is he doesn’t know how long he’s felt this way, just that some days it feels like it’s been there from the beginning.  Which can’t be true, can it?  Seungri was so young and back then three years had equalled a divide so great it rivaled America’s Grand Canyon.  What he means is that it seems silly now to think about when or where or how it all started when really what’s important is that it’s still there, “it” being his feelings.  He can admit that much at least.

 

Some days it feels like he’s been in love with Seungri forever.

 

The fall had been so gradual he might never have known if not for Secret Big Bang.  The irony is that he only realized after kissing Jiyong.  Kissing Seungri had felt exhilarating, had felt like a breath of life with his heart alight and his breath in hitches.  Back then he hadn’t been dating anyone, hadn’t dated anyone for a while much less kiss someone.  He thought it was normal.  A normal reaction to a normal kiss because kissing was still kissing so he had brushed it aside even when he revelled in how many takes they had to take because Seungri couldn’t stop giggling.  He even leaned into the kiss once and that made Seunghyun feel like he could take on anything even as he playfully shoved Seungri away.  That’s how it felt with Seungri.  Kissing Jiyong had felt like nothing.  No spark, no life, no fire.  Just flesh brushing against flesh.  Cold and empty.

 

Afterwards he had latched onto Seungri, conscious or not.  Infatuated.  He had teased him and kept him close and  _held his hand_ and told the world that he was going through an identity crises after Secret Big Bang, played it off as a joke even when it wasn’t.  Seungri had humored him and that made him feel drunk those few short weeks, like he was floating in space, like he had drank an entire bottle of wine by himself and was feeling the flush of warmth and happiness that went hand in hand with inebriation.

 

He was happy.  Seungri didn’t care.  Jiyong was his boyfriend but he tried his best not to play favorites.  Most of the time.  Jiyong is surprisingly jealous and possessive and Seunghyun saw the way Jiyong’s jealousy and anger reared its ugly head, the way his nostrils flared for a second before he looked away, the way he became cold towards Seunghyun.  He had pulled away then because he realized what he was doing wasn’t right.  He was acting like Seungri was his to tease and his to take care of and his to make happy but he wasn’t.  He was Jiyong’s.  Seunghyun shouldn’t have tried to take Jiyong’s place by Seungri’s side even if that wasn’t his intent at all.

 

He just wanted to make Seungri happy.

 

It didn’t matter that Seungri wasn’t his or that he wasn’t Seungri’s either.  He had never expected anything from Seungri anyway.  He just wanted to be surrounded by the warmth Seungri had always exuded; whatever Seungri was willing to give him after Jiyong had taken his fill was enough.

 

But lately there’s been a subtle shift in their dynamic.  Seunghyun couldn’t explain it when he saw it happen.  Hell, he can’t explain it even now.  He watches Seungri so much, wanting to make sure that he was okay, that he was smiling and happy, he couldn’t help but notice.  Something was off between the two of them, something was different and that something had made the light in Seungri’s eyes dim.  He watched, helpless, unable to do anything.  And then Jiyong had started spending all his time at the studio, days and nights and weeks and months, and Seungri had just turned to Seunghyun and said, “Hyung, let’s go have some drinks.”

 

Seunghyun had wanted to see Seungri smile so he didn’t hesitate saying yes.

 

Now it’s become this thing between the two of them.  They’re on the precipice of change.  Dynamics are shifting and he’s not sure where anything will fall.

 

\----

 

There’s a thrum under his skin, the tingling of a buzz having taken over a long time ago, leaving him feeling warm and flushed while he’s sprawled across Seungri’s sofa.  He rolls his head along the back of the cushions, the leather warm against his neck as he turns to face Seungri.  Through the haze he focuses on Seungri’s eyes, sees something like a war of emotions flit across his handsome features.  He wonders what it could be about, opens his mouth to ask but faster than he can blink Seungri’s lips are on his.  It’s nothing special, just a brush of lips that slows time to a still.  He dares not breathe, afraid that doing so might break the spell.

 

Seungri lets out the slightest moan, strained, like he wants Seunghyun to do something so much it hurts and that’s what breaks him, has him crumbling into a million pieces.  He deepens the kiss, opens Seungri’s mouth with his tongue and Seungri, he just gives in so easily, lets Seunghyun do whatever he wants, lets Seunghyun push him back and back until he’s against the arm of the chair, let Seunghyun spread his legs and settle into the vee of his pelvis, hips flushed.  He lets Seunghyun work at his buttons, his own hands frantic, frustrated.  They can’t undress fast enough.  Seunghyun gives up halfway between the first button the next.  He tears the shirt open and the buttons fly everywhere.  He doesn’t care.  He’ll buy Seungri a new one.

 

Skin against skin feels like fire as his hands run down Seungri’s chest, down his abs to his belt, hastily pulling it undone.  He nips a line of kisses down and down, Seungri’s hand pushing him lower and lower, asking without words, and Seunghyun is willing to give him anything he wants.  _Anything_.

 

But then everything stops because Seungri’s phone goes off and that’s Jiyong calling.  Jiyong, Seungri’s boyfriend.  One of Seunghyun’s closest friends.  They both freeze and then he crumbles, forehead pressed into Seungri’s chest as they listen to the phone ring and ring and ring.  He laughs.  He has to.  He laughs and he laughs and he laughs because if he doesn’t he might just fall apart.

 

This, this is just one more thing that makes him a terrible person.

 

He tries.  He tries so goddamn hard but this is Seungri.  This is Seungri and he has never been able to say no, to pull himself completely away or to push him away either, even when he knows it’s probably for the best.  Every time he thinks about trying, Seungri looks at him with wounded eyes and say, “Hyung, please,” and he breaks down.  He’s so weak.  Weak and pathetic.

 

He’ll do it.  This time, he’ll do it.  Whatever it takes.  He’ll stay away.  He should have stayed away a long time ago.  When Seungri had asked him out for drinks when he started feeling lonely without Jiyong.  When Seungri had figured out his feelings.  When Seungri had said, “Hyung, let’s watch a movie,” afterwards.  He should have said no then.  He’s going to say no now.

 

When the phone stops and silence takes over, he crawls up Seungri’s body, plants one last kiss on his lips.  He wants it to be sweet, wants this last one to burn into his memories because it’s something he’ll never have again but it turns bitter and harsh, cruel as it cuts because even now, after he’s said he’ll say no, he’s still so weak and pathetic and it makes him so angry at himself.

 

He jerks away, the taste of ash in his mouth, and pulls off as if burned.  He says words he can’t remember and he runs away.  He runs and runs and runs, the cool night air sobering against his face.  He runs and runs and runs until his lungs burn, until he’s spent and bent over, hands on his knees as his chest heaves so he can catch his breath.

 

He gets his manager to come pick him up before someone recognizes him and chaos happens.  When he locks his door behind him he swears not to open it again for anyone, least of all Seungri.  But not even two hours later Seungri is banging at his door, shouting to be let in.  On the couch, fingers gripping the roots of his hair, he tries his hardest to ignore Seungri’s frantic pleas.

 

But then, “... all your actor friends and neighbors are going to walk by and wonder why there’s a guy sitting at your door crying.”

 

 _Crying_.  That’s the only word he can focus on.  If there’s one thing he never wants to see, it’s Seungri crying.  His body is moving before he even thinks anything through properly.  He wrenches the door open, Seungri toppling to the floor as he hears his own voice, strained, say, “Don’t… cry.”

 

Seungri blinks up at him, dazed probably, but then his gaze clears and he grins up at Seunghyun.  “Hyung,” he says.  “I love you.”

 

“Aish,” he says in return, offering a hand out to help Seungri up even while he ducks his head.  He feels heat flush his face.  “Don’t say things like that so easily.  “People might misunderstand,” he adds on, the  _ **I**_ _might misunderstand_ heavily implied.  He sidesteps Seungri, closes the door, and when he turns back around Seungri is staring right into his eyes.

 

“No misunderstanding,” he says, confident and tall.  “I want to be with you.”

 

The words make him feel like he’s soaring, flying a thousand miles per second but he crashes into reality and everything comes toppling down.  He can’t.  There’s Jiyong to consider.  If he does this, there’s no going back.  But he wants everything Seungri has to offer so bad.  

 

He can’t have this, can he?

 

“I’ll make it right,” Seungri says to him, so nonchalantly there’s almost a shrug in his shoulder.

 

He scoffs but feels so small at the same time.  “Right.  How can any of this be right?  I’m stealing one of my best friend’s boyfriend.”

 

Seungri invades his space then, hands on either side of Seunghyun’s head.  He locks their eyes and then he says, “Listen, you can’t steal me.  I don’t belong to anyone but myself.  We were over a long time ago, okay?”  Seunghyun opens his mouth to protest, to say that they weren’t, that  _he_ was the one who caused all of this.  Seungri cuts him off before he can begin.  “ _Listen_.”  This time he does.  “I’m not saying that just to make you feel better.  I would never do that to you, okay?”

 

He nods as the words start to sink in.  “Okay,” he croaks out.

 

“Good.”  Seungri grins at him, something like relief in his eyes.  “So we’re going to do this.  I’m going to break things off with Jiyong and then I want to be with you.”  Here, Seungri loses his confidence, his voice wavering as he asks, “Do you want to be with me?”

 

He nods again, still finding all of this hard to believe and then Seungri steals a kiss from him, all hard mouth and persistent tongue taking what he wants and for the first time he starts to think it’s okay for him to be selfish too, that it’s okay for him to take what he wants too.  He wraps his arms around Seungri and doesn’t want to let go.

 

“How long?” Seungri asks him after they’ve settled onto his rug, backs on the floor staring up at his chandelier.  He’s quite proud of this find, likes watching the sunlight reflect off the crystals.  


“Hmm?”

 

“You know, loving me and stuff,” he clarifies.

 

A smile threatens to break out.  “‘And stuff,’” he repeats back, feeling the urge to tease Seungri take over.  “How eloquent.”  
  
He can feel Seungri start to pout next to him, turns his head to see, and then Seungri turns his head as well and he knows they shouldn’t, he knows they should wait but he stretches over until they’re sharing the same air all the same.  He means for it to be quick, but Seungri hands snake up to rest on the back of his head and the kiss lengthens, deepens, turns sensual and slow.  It goes on and on and on and yeah, his neck hurts when they finally break apart but he thinks it’s worth it.

 

“Secret Big Bang,” Seungri whispers, the puff of air against his lips warm.

 

Seungri is smarter than most people give him credit for.  “How’d you know?”

 

Seungri’s eyes crinkle as his mouth splits into a grin.  “Your identity crisis.  You kept joking about it back then but it wasn’t a joke, was it?”

 

He remembers, feels himself start to pull back, start to close off because if he was honest, he would have told Seungri it was long before then, that that was only when he was able to put a name on it.

 

“Don’t do that.”  Seungri’s voice is soft, gentle.

 

“What am I doing?”

 

“You’re locking me out.”  And yeah, he was.  He didn’t mean do, but he was.  Seungri is definitely smarter than people give him credit for.

 

Seunghyun takes another look at him.  It’s like he’s seeing Seungri for the first time again.  He feels the muscles in his face relax, smoothing over.  “When did you become so grown up?”

 

Seungri laughs in his face.  It’s not malicious, more joyful than anything, but he does tap Seunghyun’s cheek once, twice, three times.  He lets it go because Seungri looks happy.  A smirk eases onto his lips as he says, “Hyung, between the two of us, I’ve always been the older one.”

 

He shuts Seungri up by kissing him again, feeling a thrill run down his spine when Seungri holds on and doesn’t let go.

 

\----

 

Sometimes it feels like Seunghyun lives life like he’s floating along with the current of the river rather than wading against it because that’s what’s easiest.  He half-heartedly does everything these days.  It’s always “sometimes”.  Sometimes sometimes sometimes.  See?  It’s like he can’t be bothered to do more than he has to, like he doesn’t want to pursue anything if it’s too hard, if it takes too much effort.  So sometimes he finds himself alone in the studio with Jiyong.  It doesn’t happen often, hasn’t happened much in the past couple of years or so because their music taste had diverged so much, going in completely opposite directions.  Seunghyun leans more towards avant garde these days but Jiyong loves the thump of the bass against his skin, loves fast club beats that set the pace of his heart to 360 beats per minute, fast and crazy and like he’s hopped up on molly.  It’s probably him.  More than likely, actually.  He hasn’t felt particularly inspired lately so he hasn’t bothered going to the studio much.

 

The past few days though, there’s been an itch under his skin, this need driving him to create again, to make something in the hopes that it will inspire and be remembered. Maybe he doesn’t write as much as he used to, barely at all if he’s honest with himself, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t love music. Music is intrinsically part of him, has been since he was eleven and told himself he’ll make it as a rapper one day.

 

So it’s two in the morning and he could write at home but he decides on the studio, trudges over wrapped in a scarf and a too long coat, hat hiding his messy hair, and opens the door to their studio to the sight of Jiyong blinking owlishly up at him.

 

“Hyung,” Jiyong says, a wide grin spread across his face.  “Long time no see.”

 

All the air whooshes out of his lungs.  He makes a non-committed noise even as something starts gnawing at the pit of his stomach.  He seats himself in the chair next to Jiyong and they putz around for a while before something clicks.  They’ve always been good together, him and Jiyong.  Most of the time they can’t agree on anything musically.  It’s a fight, tugging and shoving until finally they settle onto something in between, prides bruised and egos flaring but the finished product is always something better than anything the two of them can do on their own.

 

It feels nice, comfortable, like it used to be back in the old days when Jiyong would come over after his practice to help Seunghyun make his demo tape for his audition.  Jiyong used to be this cute little kid, like a younger brother, who used to give them these incredible smiles that made his whole face brighten up.  He used to cuddle up to Seunghyun all the time too, before he started dating Seungri.  He would settle down next to Seunghyun during a five minute break or something, and then he’d inch his way over to Seunghyun and lay his head on Seunghyun’s shoulder to take a quick nap.  Things like that.  Jiyong used to do things like that all the time.  Little touches here and here.  He liked hugging quite a lot too.  He remembers still how Jiyong had chased him after YG had rejected him that first time.  He had thrown an arm around Seunghyun’s shoulder and told him Yang Hyun Suk didn’t know what he was talking about, that Seunghyun was beautiful and one of the best.  He was going to be a star, Jiyong had said.  He never told Jiyong but that meant a lot to him back then, made him determined.  He had decided right then and there, if he was going to stand on a stage with anyone, it was going to be with Kwon Jiyong.

 

Somewhere along the way they lost that.  Jiyong grew into harsh angles and delicate lines, composed and reserved, burned, no longer the round, fresh faced kid he was when he wrote “Lies” and cried when Yang Hyun Suk made him use it for their group rather than his solo.  Maybe he misses that Jiyong sometimes, the one who looked up at him and asked him for advice, the one who would hang out with him until all hours in the morning because he couldn’t sleep.  Maybe Jiyong misses him too, the old him.  The one who used to go out with him and the their group of friends, the one who would make songs with him even if half the time they just ended up arguing about which direction to take the song in.  It was easy back then.

 

Now he doesn’t know.  He still considers Jiyong one of his closest friends because they became adults together, experienced almost everything together.  The hardships.  The fame.  The backlash.  The larger than life personas the public gave them.  Sometimes he thinks no one understands him better than the members of his group.  He’d hate to lose any of them.

 

Hours fly by.  They write a song and a half.  It’s six in the morning and Jiyong starts toying with his phone, blinking at it with bleary eyes.  He opens it, stares at his list of text conversations before he sighs, closes it, and then repeats.  Seunghyun himself is contemplating whether to sleep on the couch there or head back home to where Seungri is undoubtedly still sleeping.  Probably.  Sometimes Seungri surprises him.

 

Seungri.  Guilt eats at him.  He doesn’t want to lose any of them but this thing with Seungri might just cost him that.  Part of him knows he’s selfish for wanting it all -- Jiyong’s friendship and this thing with Seungri -- and yet he can’t stop.  Every single cell in him knows he’s ready to lose everything but Seungri and if that means Big Bang then that means Big Bang.

 

Seungri looks at him like he’s a good person and all Seunghyun wants to do when he sees that look take over Seungri’s face is shake his head and tell him he’s not.  He’s really, really not a good person at all.

 

“Hyung, you’d tell me if there was something going on with Seungri, right?”  The question hits him hard.  He doesn’t expect this.

 

He laughs, trying for surprise but it comes out forced.  He tries to give a nonchalant shrug.  “Yeah.”

 

Liar.

 

He’s a goddamn liar.

 

Jiyong goes back to his phone.  “Seungri doesn’t really answer my texts or calls anymore.  Some nights I miss him and I go to his place after the studio but he’s never there.  He never comes home.  He never fucking tells me so I just wait there like an idiot.”

 

Sometimes rivers lead to waterfalls.  It’s too late to fight against the current now.  He’s already been flung over the edge, had been since the moment Seungri kissed him.  It’s a fall that has been filling him with dread and guilt and has his nerves rattling as he heads towards the bottom.  He can’t sleep anymore.  He just stares up at the ceiling, shrouded in darkness, and wonders what the hell he’s doing.

 

“I don’t know what to tell you,” he says instead.  The truth would be best, he thinks.  But it’s Seungri’s decision and he still has every right to change his mind.  That’s what Seunghyun is afraid of, Seungri changing his mind when everything collapses under them and he’d be left with nothing.  No Seungri.  No Big Bang.  None of the people who knows him best.

 

“I trust you, hyung,” Jiyong says with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.  There’s something there, just under the surface, a complexity that is mostly indecipherable most days but he catches a deeper glimpse once in a while and thinks that maybe Jiyong knows about him and Seungri.  But he doesn’t, right?  If he did, he’d have punched Seunghyun by now.  He would have.  Jiyong is all hot emotions and compulsive actions when it’s personal matters.

 

His phone vibrates and he opens it to see a message from Seungri asking him where he’s at.

 

Jiyong keeps looking at his phone.

 

\----

 

When he lies awake at night, unable to sleep, barely breathing in the dark, he tells himself he isn’t doubting Seungri.  If Seungri says he’s going to break up with Jiyong then he’s going to break up with Jiyong. Still, sometimes he’s staring at the ceiling and thinks that maybe it’s never going to happen, that he’s just a fool being strung along until Jiyong is done ignoring Seungri and then he’ll be tossed aside and he’ll have to pretend he doesn’t know that Seungri tastes like day old coffee and too much sugar.  He’ll have to pretend that he doesn’t know how Seungri feels pressed against his body when the feelings overwhelm and he crowds Seunghyun against the wall, sliding a hand into his hair, putting Seunghyun on edge before he finally kisses him.

 

He had told Seungri once, breathed it against the skin of his neck and quickened pulse, “I’ve waited years.  I can wait a few more weeks.”  It was true then.  It’s still true now.  He’ll wait as long as it takes but he doesn’t know how long that’s going to be.  He’s starting to think it will never come.

 

Seungri will change his mind and Seunghyun will have to soldier on like he had always done before.  He’ll watch from the side and wish them the best because the only thing he really wants, the only thing he has ever wanted for Seungri, is for him to be happy.  It will hurt, he can’t lie about that.  It will hurt like a thousand knives against his skin but he knows in the depths of his soul that that’s how it’s going to play out.  But it’s okay.  If Jiyong makes Seungri happy then that’s what Seunghyun wants for him.

 

He hears the lock to his door turn, Seungri opening the door with his own key, but he stays where he’s at, seated in his chair, elbows on his knees and fingers gripping the roots of his hair.  Seungri treads lightly to him, and when he looks up Seungri shakes his head.  He tries to put on a smile but must have failed because Seungri’s eyes burn hot.  He doesn’t understand what that could mean but it can’t be anything good.

  
  
Seungri opens his mouth, presumably to explain.  He doesn’t give Seungri the chance to say anything.  He shrugs and tells him, “It’s okay, we’ve got time,” but the words feel hollow.  He moves onto his feet, itching for a smoke, a pack of cigarettes in one hand, a cancer stick -- Seungri’s words -- between the fingers of the other.  Seungri doesn’t let him leave, catches him by the wrist.

 

“Don’t think that I’m, I don’t know, changing my mind on us or something,” Seungri says to him.  “Because I’m not.  At all.”  His voice is low but there’s a hard, determined set to it.

  
  
“Not even a little?” he asks in return, hates how insecure his own voice is in comparison to Seungri’s.

 

“Not even for one second.”  Seungri can be as stubborn as the rest of them, if not more, but his words, they do something to him, settle a hurricane of guilt and doubt that’s been threatening to hit land.  And then Seungri kisses him, slides his hand the rest of the way down until their fingers are interlocked, pack of smokes dropping to the ground.  It may be just for that night but suddenly everything feels better, like it’s all going to work out.

 

He tosses some wood into the fireplace while Seungri makes himself comfortable, lights it on fire with one of his matches and then time passes.  He doesn’t really remember what they talk about as the sun sinks in the sky, lighting everything a fiery red and orange glow before it fades into a deep bruised purple as the stars begin to peek out.  The fire dies and he looks over to see Seungri wrapped up in one of his blankets, blond head peeking out.  He walks over, tries to steal the blanket, tries to wake him up and tells him to go home but Seungri only blinks at him before ignoring him and going back to sleep.

 

They always do this.  He tells Seungri to go home because he remembers Jiyong and knows it’s not right for Seungri to spend practically every night at his place.  Seungri always stays because he wants to.  Maybe he should stop asking.  He’s clearly never going to win this fight.

 

He waits a few more minutes, waits to hear the soft snores of Seungri back into slumber before he picks him up gently, one arm under his knees, the under his arms.  He drops Seungri on the couch, finds him a warmer blanket and throws that on top of him.  He sits there a few minutes, just watching the shift in Seungri’s face while he dreams before he says, “I love you.”

 

 ** _I love you_**.

 

Seungri has said it to him a few times already.

 

He hasn’t been able to bring himself to say it back.

 

\----

 

They shouldn’t but the kisses become more and more frequent, hidden corners and empty rooms.  Seungri is getting careless and Seunghyun just doesn’t care anymore.  Anything to put an end to this, one way or another.

 

There is adrenaline pumping through both their veins.  It makes Seungri bold.  He crowds Seunghyun into a dark corner and Seunghyun sees, over the top of Seungri’s head, Jiyong staring at them both, frozen in place, eyes wide in shock only to harden when they connect with Seunghyun’s.  He doesn’t do anything.  Doesn’t push Seungri away.  He lets it happen.  It’s all gotta end some day.  That day was as good as any.

 

Jiyong’s nostrils flare when he finally closes his eyes, giving into the way Seungri snakes his arms around his neck, the way he deepens the kiss and parts Seunghyun’s lips with his tongue.  He expects the punch that comes when Jiyong breaks them apart.  He doesn’t fight back, doesn’t do anything but stay where he’s at, head thrown to one side, unable to look Jiyong in the eye.  Jiyong trusted him, talked to him about their issues and he threw it back in Jiyong’s face.  He deserves this.  He expects another punch to follow, only for Seungri to squeeze his way between them, back pressed against him, hands on Jiyong’s chest.

 

“Hyung, stop.”

 

Finally Seunghyun looks at him again, sees the fire and rage in his eyes.  Harsh words, crueler tone.  Meant to cut and leave him gaping with wounds  “You and me?  We’re done.”

 

Then Jiyong is walking away, glaring at anyone who dares get in his way, leaving the staff confused and wondering what the hell was going on.  For him, it’s the moment of truth.  Jiyong or him.  Which one is Seungri going to choose?

 

Seungri whips around, tells him to wait, and then he’s chasing after Jiyong.  He won’t say he’s not disappointed.  He is.  But he always knew, deep inside, that this was how it was going to end.  Seungri was always going to choose Jiyong because who throws away nine years with someone?

 

There’s no point in staying for rehearsal after Jiyong leaves, Seungri following right on his heels.  The staff members whisper amongst themselves as they hustle out, but Youngbae and Daesung slide down next to him.

  
  
“So.” - Youngbae.

 

“That happened.” - Daesung.

 

“Yeah.” - Him.

 

The awkward silence is finally broken when Youngbae says, “It’ll work out.  Jiyong’s kind of known things weren’t working out between the two of them for a while now.”

 

He says nothing in return.  He’s hopeful.  He is.  Otherwise he wouldn’t have stayed.

 

They sit with him until the sun is long gone, until the cool night air starts to chill.  He doesn’t really say much, most of the conversation held between Daesung and Youngbae.  He just waits and waits, tells himself just five more minutes, five more and then he’s done, he’ll give up and congratulate them in the morning and everything will finally be done and over with.  Eventually Youngbae’s and Daesung’s girlfriends wonder where they are and they give him guilty looks even as he tells them to go.  He doesn’t want them here when he breaks down anyway.

 

And he does.  He holds it in for ten minutes after they’re gone, back on the cold brick walls, knees up, the back of his arms resting on them, fingers gripping his hair as his chest heaves.  It’s loud and ugly, and he’s glad there’s no one around to witness it.  It feels cathartic.  Finally, a release for the guilt and the self-hate.  He didn’t know how much longer he could have kept going, even if it was for Seungri.  When he’s done, his head is pounding and his phone rings.

 

He looks at the screen, sees Seungri smiling up at him, feels acceptance settle deep within him.  For the first time in weeks he finally feels at peace.  He picks up.

 

“Hyung, I’m sorry.”

 

Disappointment is there, but he has already accepted this.  “It’s alright.”

  
  
“Where are you?” Seungri asks.

 

“Where do you think, idiot?  At home.  You didn’t think I was going to wait for you, did you?”  He’s surprised at his own voice, surprised at how calm and not heart broken it sounds.  Maybe he’s not so bad of an actor after all.

 

The call ends with silence.  He tells himself it’s time to pick himself up and go but he sits there, waiting.  Five more minutes, he repeats.  Five more minutes and then he’ll go.  Next thing he knows he’s staring at the tips of Seungri’s dress shoes.

 

“I think you’re right here waiting for me,” he says.  He has the nerve to sound cheeky.  Seunghyun doesn’t know whether to laugh or to cry again.  Feels like doing a bit of both at this point.

 

“So, happy couple back together I take it?”  He hears the bitterness in his own voice.  “Everything all dandy and sunshine again?”

 

He hears Seungri shuffle into a sitting position across from him.  “Who’s the idiot now?” he asks.

 

“Still you,” Seunghyun shoots back.

 

“I told you I’d come back.”

 

“No you didn’t.”  He’s being petty, he knows.  “I believe your words were, ‘Wait for me, okay?’ before dashing after your boyfriend.”

 

“Yeah, meaning wait for me because I am definitely come back.”

 

He just wants this game to end already.  “Obviously you two got back together so just tell me so we can get this over with.”

 

Seungri sounds incredulous.  “Obviously Jiyong and I got back together?  Where are you even getting this?”

  
  
It’s simple.  “You chased after him and disappeared for hours.  What am I supposed to think?”

 

He sees Seungri’s foot inch forward slowly until it meets with his.  It’s a slight nudge that has affection warming him even if he doesn’t want it to.  “You were supposed to think about the fact that I was breaking up with him, not getting back together.”  Then, softly, “The only guy I want to be with is you.”

 

Those words fill him with God forsaken hope.  Finally, he looks up and everything is fine for a moment but Seungri looks wrecked, like he’s in pain. A choked out, “Hyung,” and then suddenly he has an armful of Seungri followed quickly by a kiss, one that dominates and consumes him.  He’s powerless against it.

 

“I love you,” Seungri breathes against his lips.  “Don’t you get that?  I’m so in love with you it makes me crazy sometimes.”

 

“Yeah?”  He asks, the hope from before growing.  Seungri has said those words a handful of times already but this is the first times he starts to believe them.

 

Seungri nods.  “It’s you and me.”

 

He doesn’t know what noise comes out of him, can’t hear it over the rushing of his blood and the thudding of his own heart.  “I love you,” he finally chokes out, saying it for Seungri to hear for the first time.  “I love you so much I don’t know what to do anymore.”

 

Seungri usually kisses him like he’s starving, like a black hole wanting to consume everything into a single point until there’s nothing left.  This next one is different.  It’s sweet and gentle, soft, and it strips him down to nothing.  He knows he’ll never recover from this, knows he’ll be Seungri’s forever, stripped down, naked and bare.

 

In his bed, after they’ve stripped down to nothing, he kisses Seungri’s chest with hands tangled in his hair, guiding him down until he’s hovering above Seungri’s cock. He takes a moment to look up, to see Seungri’s face before he does this, and their eyes connect.  Love and affection and warmth shines through and then Seungri’s thumb brushes the corner of his mouth, and, almost tenderly he says, “Hey,” but Seunghyun hears, “I love you.”

 

“Hey,” he repeats back, means, “I love you, too.”

 

It’s his first time this way, with another man between his legs.  With another man, period.  He should tell Seungri.  Seungri would want to know.  He should.  He says nothing.  Bites his lips as Seungri inserts one lubed finger, then two, three, working him open slowly.  He suppresses his moans by pressing his lips together, keeps them chained up in his chest and his throat until Seungri brushes a spot inside of him that has stars flashing before his eyes.  It’s a slow build, Seungri teasing him until he’s begging.  Maybe not with his words but the way his legs are spread, wide and inviting, the way his hands are gripping Seungri’s hair and the way he tugs Seungri down to attack his mouth, filthy and dirty as if saying, “Please, fuck me.”

 

Finally Seungri pulls his fingers out, leaving him feeling open and raw and empty, and then he lines himself up, brushes Seunghyun hair and sweat away from Seunghyun’s eyebrows, and he pushes in.  It’s one long, slow push that has him feeling every inch.  He twinges with pain but it’s so exhilarating, the way Seungri splits him open.  He knows it’s harder this way, more painful, knows that it would have been easier on his side with Seungri behind him.

 

Seungri bottoms out, finally in to the hilt pauses, harsh breaths against Seunghyun’s ribs as his head rests on Seunghyun’s solar plexus.  One.  Two.  Three.  Four deep breaths to calm himself down as Seunghyun’s muscles spasm.  He feels it, the way he’s clenching down, holding on tight, not wanting to let go.  He hides his face behind the crook of an arm, embarrassed.

 

“I’m sorry,” Seungri says as he pins Seunghyun’s hand above his head to reveal his face.  “I’m sorry I’m being so selfish about this but I want to see your face.”

 

So he knew after all, that he is Seunghyun’s first.  Typical.  Seungri takes what he wants but Seunghyun kind of loves him for it.

 

That first drag out has him feeling every inch, has him feeling the fiction of skin against skin on the way back in, hard and rough, powerful, but never forceful.  One.  His breath hitches.  Two.  He bites his bottom lip.  Three.  Seungri parts his mouth with a skilled tongue.  Four.  He kisses back.  Five.  Seungri hits that spot inside him.  Stars blind his eyes.  Six.  He can’t contain them anymore.  Moans.  Groans.  Guttural.  Loud and filthy.  Seven.  Jesus.  Eight.  Fuck.  Ni-

 

He loses count.  Feels everything and holds on, legs wrapped around Seungri’s waist, locked at the ankles.  Seungri takes and he takes and he takes and Seunghyun wants to give him everything.  A hand snakes between the two of them, wraps around his cock and he thinks nothing will ever be better than this.  But then Seungri tugs, times his hand with his thrusts, has Seunghyun fucking into his fist and he was wrong.  It turns into a frenzy, nails biting into the skin of Seungri’s shoulder, one of Seungri’s arms under his knees, keeping him spread apart, open.  Seungri's thrusts are slow but punishing, unrelentless and it drives them both to the edge. It gets them there but it doesn’t push them over. He whines, wants to come already, wants Seungri to fill him, but they keep going and going and going until, of all things, Seungri leans down and kisses him.  Sweet and chaste in the middle of all the heat and lust, and that’s what finally has him somersaulting over the ledge.

 

His vision whites out, muscles clenched taut and tight.  His body goes limp and relaxed after, happy and warm and flushed, sweaty.  Seungri pumps into him a few more times and Seunghyun’s just there, happy and willing and used, and then a cry into the nook of Seunghyun’s neck as he spills.

 

Seungri is gentle with him afterwards, traces the curves of his face with his fingertips.  “I’m sorry I was so selfish.”

 

“It’s okay,” he says.  He was selfish too.  He could have said something.  Truth is he knew it would hurt more but he wanted to see Seungri’s face too, wanted to see the bliss on his face when he finally pushed in.

 

There’s that look again.  He’s looking at Seunghyun like he’s a good person.  He’s not.  Not after all the terrible things he’d done to Jiyong. The broken trust.  The friendship in tatters.  Not after the things he still can’t tell Seungri, the selfishness.  But Seungri makes him keep trying, makes him want to be as good as Seungri thinks he is.

 

For the first time in weeks he’s able to fall asleep peacefully, the sight of Seungri before him as he blink blinks blinks and then is gone.  It’s undisturbed for the most part, save for when Seungri throws an arm around his waist in the middle of the night.  He doesn’t mind.

 

\----

 

He wakes up in the morning to the sun in his eyes, peeking through the slits of his curtain.  He groans and tosses over only to hear Seungri laugh at him.

 

“Shut up,” he grumbles out.

 

“Come on, hyung.  It’s time to get up.”  He fights tooth and nail but like all fights between them Seungri manages to win.  He is forgiven when he places a cup of coffee in front of Seunghyun at the kitchen table and then his phone next to his cup, Instagram already opened.  He drains half the cup in one go and starts browsing the massive library he has for pictures, deciding which ones to post, which ones he’ll post more than once, and which ones he’ll post and delete half an hour later if not right away.

 

Seungri’s phone pings with every update and Seunghyun manages to hide the smirk.  Of course Seungri would have the notifications for him turned on.  Of course he would  He stares at Seunghyun over the rim of his cup with laughter in his eyes.

 

“Why do you do that?”  He asks.

 

“Do what?”  He asks in return, trying to divide his attention between his phone and Seungri.  Seungri is losing.

 

“Post stuff and then delete it right away.”

 

Okay.  Maybe Seungri isn’t losing.  He looks up, phone forgotten for the moment.  Isn’t it obvious?  He thought it was.  Seungri keeps looking at him with inquiring eyes so he answers.  “Because I can.”

 

Seungri cracks up, laughs like he’s cackling and it makes Seunghyun feel proud of himself before he goes back to his phone. He hears the scrape of wood against tile and then Seungri snatches his phone away, keeps it trapped under his hand on Seunghyun’s glass table.

 

He opens his mouth to say something but Seungri cuts him off, covers Seunghyun’s mouth with his own and Seunghyun loses himself for a while.  When Seungri pulls away, he says, “I fucking love you,” and it sounds so natural, like it’s always been true, like it’s the only thing he knows.

 

He grins up at Seungri.  “I love you, too.”  Seungri kisses him again, this time slow and languid, wet heat taking over, want and desire pooling in the pit of his stomach.  He takes Seungri in the shower, the younger of the two pressed against the glass walls, legs spread and willing, one arm reaching back to wrap around Seunghyun’s neck.

 

Mid-afternoon he asks Seungri what he wants to do.

 

Seungri shrugs at him and says, “Let’s go to a museum.”

 

\----

 

**Author's Note:**

> Most of this was written between the hours of midnight and 2 AM because that seems the only time I get inspired. That and during work LOL.
> 
> I had originally wanted to go less angsty and in return I angsted so much while writing this. I ultimately kind of gave in because with an opening line like, "Seunghyun knows he's not a good person. But he tries. He really, really tries," I don't think there was anywhere I can go with that that didn't contain angst. Plus, TOP's the other woman! LOL. I guess I just loved the idea that Seungri might think TOP is a good person but he himself does not. Sometimes the people who love us sees things in us we ourselves don't see. Anyway, I shall end this before it goes down a depressing route.
> 
> Comments and Kudos are appreciated. Thank you for reading ^_^


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